The Hoping Games
by Saphira42
Summary: My sister has volunteered to take my place in the arena, and now she is fighting for her life while I sit at home, powerless to help. I am Primrose Everdeen, and this is my story. My story of loss and pain and death. DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Hello! This is The Hunger Games from Prim's POV (point of view). I have always felt like Prim is a very misunderstood character in the Hunger Games, and in this novel I hope to show her stronger side as well as her development throughout the series. Enjoy!**

My eyes fly open in terror. But it wasn't real. I try to convince myself that the dream wasn't real. Katniss isn't going into the Hunger Games. I turn over carefully and see my sister's sleeping form beside me. Still here. Still alive.

These nightmares make me feel weak. I used to never have them, but now they plague me almost every night. Recently, as the Reaping loomed nearer, they became more and more frequent. And now the fateful day is here. The day where my sister's fate will be decided. At least for this year.

I climb out of bed, being careful not to disturb Katniss, and crawl under the covers next to my mother. Katniss is the one in the family who protects and provides for us, but my mom is the one who I go to for comfort. I snuggle down in the blankets and wrap one arm around my cat, Buttercup. He's a bit dirty, and he doesn't have the best temperament, but I love him just the same. I close my eyes again and let sleep overcome me.

* * *

When I wake up, it takes a moment to figure out where I am. I haven't climbed in with my mother for almost a year. I sit up, being careful not to wake my mom, and look over to the bed that I share with my sister. It's empty, and the sheets are thrown carelessly back. Katniss will be out hunting, like she is every day.

I imagine her slipping out of the house, sliding under the fence that separates District Twelve from the woods outside. Whenever I think of her, free, outside of District twelve, my heart aches with longing, admiration, and a bit of jealousy. I desperately want to be able to be like my fearless older sister, but whenever she takes me into the woods and tries to show me how to hunt, I lose it. I can't stand the thought of killing animals. I can't stand that there is an injured being right in front of me, but I can't help it. If Katniss brings her kills into the house, already dead and beyond help, I can handle it, but seeing the animals that my sister would shoot in such pain was more than I could bear.

Sometimes I wish that Katniss would let me leave the district with her to gather plants, but whenever I ask her she just says that I will slow her down. I know that she isn't willing to leave me alone in the woods, so I don't press the issue. Maybe one day she will see that while I am kind and loving, I am also tough, every bit as tough as she is. At least, I could be, if she would give me a chance.

I wonder if she realizes that it hurt me every bit as much as her when our father died in the mines. Our mother left us at that point, five years ago. I was just as scared as Katniss, only being seven, not really understanding what was happening, only knowing that one day I had two loving parents, and the next I had none. Now I understand what happened, that my mother couldn't handle my father's death. I understand why she just sat, for days on end, barely eating or drinking. But understanding doesn't make it any easier to bear.

I feel my mother stirring beside me, probably roused by my movement. Before she wakes up completely, I get out of bed and slip the water-filled kettle into our fireplace. I know that today will be terrible for her, and I hope to help make it a bit easier on her by making her morning as wonderful as I can. I fetch a small amount of coal from a bucket by the door, and expertly begin stacking wood and placing the coal in the fireplace.

Within a few minutes, a merry fire crackles in the hearth and the water for tea is warming. While I wait for it to boil, I slip into Katniss's old coat, wince as I realize that it still comes down almost to my knees, and slide my feet into old shoes that are two sizes too big. I then creep around to the back of my house, smiling as I see my goat, Lady, in her makeshift pen. I sit down on an upside down bucket and begin to milk her, directing the milk into a pail that was already under her. Lady just stands there placidly, occasionally turning her head to stare at me with her strange sideways pupils. I grin, thinking of the day that Katniss brought her home to me. Lady had a badly hurt shoulder, but my mother and worked together to save her, and we managed it, eventually. Her shoulder isn't quite the same, but at least she didn't have to lose her leg. I scratch her behind the ears after finishing milking her, and then hurry back into the house. When I walk in, my mother is awake and dressed, laying out two beautiful outfits on the bed that I share with Katniss.

"Good morning, Prim," she says in her soft voice.

I smile at her. "I got some milk from Lady. May I add it to the tea?" She nods and I head over to the fireplace and remove the kettle from it's hook, noting that the water is boiling rapidly. It probably has been for a while. I drop in a couple of mint leaves and pour the flavored water into two small mugs. I add a minute amount of goat milk before handing one mug to my mother and taking a sip from the other one.

Mint tea with goat milk is bland and nearly tasteless, but over the years I have grown to enjoy it. There is a faint flavor in it that reminds me of the red and white striped candies that are sold in town. I've never tasted one of them before, but they smell like heaven. Maybe one day, when I'm older, I can trade for some of them, but right now it's just a dream.

I have so many dreams that can never happen. I want to be a doctor, like the one in town who's responsible for taking care of the wounded miners. I want to taste the cakes in town square, the ones with the intricate frosting decorations - flowers and suns, sailing ships surrounded by foaming waves, fireworks that seem to leap off of the cakes. But most of all, I want my whole family, or at least what's left of it, to be happy. I want Katniss to be happy all of the time. I rarely see her smile, except when she's with Gale. It always makes me sad when I see her smiling, because I am reminded of how infrequently that expression crosses her face.

I want my mother to really live again. Maybe one day she can start a real hospital, the kind that we only hear about on television. Maybe she can have a purpose again. We could work together to heal our patients. It would be wonderful.

I shake my head to clear it and slip out of the coat that I was wearing. I shiver as I pull off my nightgown and hurry to step into the tub full of warm water that my mother has set out for me. I relish the feel of the water against my skin. It has been almost a week since I took a bath, and without a doubt it will be another week before I get the chance to bathe again. I dawdle for as long as I can, but eventually the water becomes cold and I'm forced to step out of the tub and get dressed.

After toweling off, I hurry over to the bed where my mom laid the reaping outfits. Katniss's first reaping outfit sits on my side of the bed. It's dainty; a white blouse with a pretty brown knee-length skirt. I love that I can wear my sister's old outfit. It makes me feel like some part of Katniss will be with me, protecting me, even though she will be standing far away from me with the other sixteen year olds.

Katniss steps into the door just as my mother finishes styling my hair. I'm ready, now there is nothing to do but wait. My sister walks up to me, smiling in that kind way that says I am young and sweet and innocent. I try to smile back to show that I'm not scared, but it must look more like a grimace. I'm not afraid for myself - if I'm reaped Katniss will just volunteer. But I'm terrified for her, that she will be reaped. She made me promise that no matter what happens, I won't volunteer. I told her I wouldn't, but it tore at my heart to say it. I know that if I volunteered for her, she would forever blame herself for my death. She would rather die than have to live the rest of her life with that burden. But she couldn't recognize that I would, too. If my name is drawn and she volunteers for me, I will never be able to forgive myself, because I will have killed her with my weakness. If Katniss goes into the Hunger Games, it will be my fault, and nothing will ever change that. I fight back tears, and turn around quickly, pretending to check my hair in the mirror until can compose myself again. She can't know what I was just thinking.

When Katniss is dressed and ready, we sit together while we wait for the bell to ring that signifies the start of the Reaping.

"Tuck your tail in, little duck," she laughs at me. My hand flies to my back and I realize that my blouse isn't tucked in properly. Part of it sticks out, forming a small duck tail. My mother tried to make the too-big outfit stay on me with pins, but the attempt wasn't entirely successful. I'm a bit embarrassed, but I give her a small quack to make her laugh, and hopefully to help ease her nerves.

"Quack yourself!" Katniss laughs. "Come on, let's eat." She has set some game and plants on the table. My eyes are instantly drawn to a bucket of strawberries that rests in the middle of the table, and I look at her.

"Are the strawberries for later?" I inquire, trying not to salivate too much.

"Yes," Katniss laughs a little, drawing the strawberries slightly away from me. I grin and turn back to my meal. It's good, and despite my nervousness I finish it very rapidly.

At one o'clock, we make our way slowly to the town square where the reaping will be held. Katniss signs in and heads off to take her place among the other kids her age, and then I am at the check-in table. I hold my head high as the an official takes a blood sample before directing me to a small roped off area filled with all of the other twelve year old girls in the district. Most of them are shaking uncontrollably; a few even have tears running down their faces. I try to appear mature, and as unconcerned as is possible. There is an awkward silence for a while, but eventually Mayor Undersee makes his way to the microphone. There are all of the normal reaping formalities, like reading the Treaty of Treason and reading the list of our victors, but I try not to listen. The Treaty of Treason just makes me mad, and I'm almost ashamed of how few victors we have. Two. Only Haymitch is still alive. I heard that the other victor died just after Haymitch won.

Anyway, as Mayor Undersee reads off Haymitch's name, District Twelve's only surviving victor stumbles onto the stage. He's drunk, as usual. I can't stand our victor, because he seems to be in a perpetual state of drunkenness. It's pathetic.

Haymitch tries to give our escort, Effie Trinket, a hug, and she gives a high pitched squeal, slapping his hands away. I smile a little. This is a fairly entertaining day, as far as Reaping days go. The mayor tries to direct the attention back to the reaping by introducing Effie Trinket. She trots up to the podium.

"Happy Hunger Games!" she says. "And, may the odds be ever in your favor!" Effie flashes a blindingly white toothed smile at the crowd. "Ladies first!"

And then she is bouncing over to the glass ball containing the female names. Swirling her hand around before plunging it deep into the slips of paper. And pulling out a slip that will decide Katniss's fate. It seems that she intentionally dawdles on her way back to the podium, but she finally reaches it and opens the slip of paper. There is a long pause.

"Primrose Everdeen."

**A/N I hope you liked it! Please review, it's the only way that I can improve my writing. Was it amazing? Did it suck? Feedback is adored. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: A shout-out to charliesunshine and Akalchemist for reviewing and following/favoriting this story. Thank you, it really means a lot!**

I try not to scream, try to keep my mouth shut, as the name processes. Primrose Everdeen. This is so much worse than if Katniss had been reaped. Because now it's my fault that she is going into the arena. My fault.

Every fiber of my being wants to yell out for Katniss to not volunteer, but I know it will be useless. I feel terror consuming me. Katniss is going into the Hunger Games, and it's my fault! If only I had been stronger. If only I had been better. If only I had not forced Katniss to protect me in every way possible, maybe she wouldn't feel like she has to do this now.

I force my feet to move. The crowd has parted, and I see people's mouths moving, but I can't hear what they're saying. My ears are ringing, and I can't hear anything except for the name. I am moving through the crowd towards the stage, forcing myself to stand tall and hold my head high. I am just mounting the steps, just thinking that maybe Katniss isn't going to volunteer after all, when I hear it.

"Prim!" It's her. Here it comes. My sister sounds as if she is choking, but as I turn around, I see her rushing forward. She meets me, her eyes wild, and shoves me roughly behind her. I stumble, but manage to keep my footing.

"I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!" she gasps out. I scream. I wrap my arms around Katniss's waist and refuse to let go. After a pause, I choke out the words.

"No, Katniss! No! You can't go!" I shriek. Because if she does, she will die. Maybe I can keep her from going, maybe I can convince her to stay and let me go. But even as the desperate thoughts run through my head, I know it is useless. Nothing can convince her to stay here. Nothing at all. I don't even know if it's legal for a volunteer to back out. But I can't just let her go. I have to try to keep her here. My grip tightens around her waist.

"Prim, let go!" Katniss snaps at me. Her tone is so unlike the tone that she usually uses when she speaks to me, I'm shocked. My grip loosens, for just a moment, but it's a moment too long. I feel someone pulling me off of her. I scream as I am yanked away from my sister. I'm shrieking for Katniss, trying to wriggle out of the iron grip, but it's no use. Dimly, I hear Gale's voice.

"Up you go, Catnip," he says, in a weak attempt at cheerfulness. Then he is pulling me away. Away from my sister, away from the stage. I scream at my captor, who I have identified as Gale, but it's no use.

"Let me go! Go back! She can still stay! Let me go!" The tears are streaming down my face, but Gale ignores my cries. He just drags me away from Katniss, and no matter what I do, he won't go back.

"Why did you take me away?! I still could have saved her!" I shriek, as he sets me down. By now we must be back where my mother is, but I can't tell for sure.

"I still could have saved her," I sob. "She's going to die and it will be your fault!"

"Prim, it's going to be okay," Gale says, trying to stop his bloody nose with his sleeve. Vaguely, I realize that I probably hit him in the nose while I was struggling to break free of his arms. I should feel bad, but I just glare at him through my tears. This is his fault, almost as much as mine. If he hadn't pulled me off of her, if I hadn't been so weak, if he had tried to convince her to stay, if... But I'm not being fair. He didn't do anything wrong.

Gradually, my tears subside, but they leave me feeling every bit as bad as before. Katniss is going to her death right now and it's all my fault. Finally, I calm down enough to see Effie Trinket leading Katniss and a blond boy who I don't recognize into the Justice Building. I bury my face in my mother's shirt, trying to block the events of the last hour from my mind.

I hear the Mayor making the normal end-of-Reaping speech and then we are released to go where we please. I step slightly away from my mother and wipe my eyes, looking at Gale. "Sorry I hit you. It wasn't intentional," I tell him honestly. "And I shouldn't have said those things about it being your fault. It wasn't fair." Gale just smiles sadly at me.

I manage to get my face relatively clear of tears before my mother and I begin walking towards the Justice Building to say our goodbyes. Gale follows behind us, but he lets us go into the room with Katniss alone. He understands that we want our privacy.

Katniss opens her arms to me, and I climb up onto her lap, hugging her tightly. I try not to think about how this might be the last time that I ever hug my sister. My mother sits down next to us and pulls us both close to her. We sit, as peacefully as the circumstances allow, for a few minutes, and then Katniss starts talking. She seems so strong, even though she has essentially just received her death sentence. She tells me that I can not take any tesserae, no matter what. That I can sell my goat milk and we will live. I agree, not because I want to, but because I have to. If I refused, I don't know what she would do. And I know that we can make it by without tesserae. Somehow.

Then Katniss goes on, talking to my mother for a bit about how Gale will bring us meat and such. I tune out of the conversation, just savoring the feel of my sister's arms around me, of my head on her shoulder.

I hear Katniss sounding very intense, and start to listen again. She's glaring at my mother.

"Listen to me. Are you listening to me?" She demands, fear evident in her voice. My mother nods, looking almost frightened herself. "You can't leave again!" Katniss yells. She screams at my mother about staying herself, not leaving like she did when my father died. She acts like I'm not right here in the room, like I'm no more than I toddler. Finally, I can't bear it anymore. I take Katniss's face in my hands.

"I'll be alright, Katniss," I say, trying to calm her. "But you have to take care, too. You're so fast and brave." I think of how she can go under the fence without a second thought, of how I have always envied her courage. "Maybe you can win."

"Maybe," she says, but it is obvious from her tone that she has already given up, that she's just humoring me. "Then we'd be rich as Haymitch." She's trying to be upbeat.

"I don't care if we're rich," I state vehemently. "I just want you to come home. You will try, won't you? Really, really try?" I'm trying to get her to promise, to feel like she has to win for me, because I know that if she does promise, she won't back down. She'll try as hard as she can to come home to me.

"Really, really try. I swear it," Katniss says, and I let out an inward sigh of relief. She's going to try. She's going to really, truly try.

A peacekeeper comes in and tells us that we have to leave. And then we are hugging each other as hard as we can, and Katniss is telling us she loves us, and I'm desperately trying to hold on to my sister, but the peacekeeper is pulling me away.

"I love you, Katniss!" I scream before the door slams shut. And then Katniss is gone, and I know that there is a very good chance that I will never see her again. Trying to win likely won't be enough. The tears are streaming down my face again, and I feel like I'm choking, but I force myself to at least kind of keep it together until my mother and I make it back to my house. I can go to pieces there, but I have to stay strong for now.

**A/N: I'm sorry that it's short, but I like to end chapters where it seems natural, and there wasn't another good stopping point for a while. Please review! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: A couple of things... First off, someone asked if the entire story will be in Prim's POV. That's the plan for now, and I can't think of a reason why it would change. Second, I will hopefully be updating every two days or so for a while, but in a few weeks updates might become less frequent. Third, thank you so much for the reviews/favorites/follows. They make me so happy every time. :)**

My mother and I hurry back to my house. When we arrive, we just sit on the mattress clutching each other. I miss Katniss so badly, and it has only been five minutes since I was with her. It was only this morning that I lay in bed with her, snuggling close to her warm body. It was only this morning that I was happy, when I was milking my Lady. Buttercup noses his way into our arms, and I hold him tight, clinging to his furry heat.

The next thing that I know, someone is shaking my shoulder. I blearily open my eyes, thinking that Katniss must be waking me up to a new day. She must be telling me that it's time for school. But when my eyes focus on the person in front of me, it isn't Katniss. It's my mom.

"Wake up, Prim. The reapings are about to be replayed. I don't want you to miss them, I think you will regret it later," She tells me, her voice laden with sadness. I can't respond because my throat is choked up, and if I speak I know that I will begin to sob again. Instead, I give a tiny nod and drag myself over to the front of our rusty old television set, sitting down on our old couch. A puff of dust rises as I settle in. Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman sit together, talking about this year's tributes. I force myself to pay attention, to stay tuned in to the droning of their voices, but finally they are actually beginning to replay the footage of the reapings. District One comes first, as always. The tributes are a pair of ditzy-looking blonds who absolutely huge. They are both attractive, in that completely fake Capital way, and I know that they will get lots of sponsors. I begin to tear up. I've only been watching for a few minutes and already the odds seem against Katniss. I blink my tears away, desperate to see the pair from district two. They only show the actually reaping of the names, not the reading of the treaty of treason and such, so the districts go by rapidly.

The tributes from two are even larger than the ones from District One. My throat feels dry and parched. My stomach is boiling with terror. I feel sick, glued to the screen as more and more names are pulled, each name draws Katniss one step farther from home, one step closer to her death. I shudder and look away from the screen for a moment. If watching the reapings scares me half to death, how am I going to deal with the Games? I try to blink my tears away, but it's no use.

"Prim, are you okay?" My mother asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just so scared for Katniss and..." I trail off, not wanting to admit that I feel like it's my fault that she is in the Games.

"What is it?" my mother urges. I give in.

"It's my fault that Katniss is in the Games!" I explode. "If I had been stronger then maybe she wouldn't have volunteered for me! I'm weak and that's why she volunteered. because she knew I didn't have a chance in the arena. And she does have a chance. But so do all of the other tributes, and if she dies it will be my fault." I wipe at my eyes. "I will have killed her."

My mother's eyes are wide. "Prim, it's not your fault at all! Katniss volunteered because she loves you. Don't you think that if Gale were reaped, he'd have a good chance at winning?" I nod, baffled as to why she just changed the subject. My mother continues. "And don't you think that, if she were allowed to, Katniss would volunteer for him in a heartbeat?"

"Yes, but-"

"Prim, Katniss did not volunteer because you're weak. She loves you, and that's why she took your place."

"I guess so," I answer. But I'm still not entirely convinced.

I look back to the television screen in time to see that that the tributes from three are unremarkable. I'm certain that Katniss could best them in a fight if she had to. I feel terrible, thinking of the people as tributes, as only an obstacle between Katniss and me. But that's all they really are, and I have to think like that. Everyone who I see on this screen has to die if I am going to get my sister back.

No other tributes really catch my attention until I see the pair form district eleven. A girl who must be my age is reaped. She has dark skin and deep, dark eyes, and I can't help thinking that she would be my friend if she lived in twelve. She looks strong and kind. I don't want her to die. Then, I see the boy from eleven and my heart skips a beat. He must be at least six and a half feet tall, with rippling muscles and a face that, while it's kind, is also hard.

Tears are running down my face again, and I try to wipe them away, but it's no use. I jump up and leave the house before the final reaping is played. I can't watch Katniss volunteer for me again. Once was impossibly hard. Twice will be unbearable.

I hurry around to the back of my house and climb into Lady's pen. As I sit down on the milking stool, my goat butts her head against me, knocking me to the ground. I can't help smiling, despite my gloomy mood. Lady's antics never fail to cheer me up.

After sitting with Lady for a while, I wipe my tears away and stand up. I drag myself out of her pen and then meander around my house for a while before forcing myself to go for a walk.

I wander around the streets of the Seam, but they're too covered in coal dust and smoke to be relaxing. Almost without my realizing it, I'm walking towards the meadow at the edge of District Twelve. I find the meadow refreshing in the same way that Katniss found the woods relaxing. When I reach my destination, I collapse in the tall grass and stare up at the sky, trying to forget everything that is happening, if only for a little while. I remember Katniss once telling me that the stars help her to find her way if she is in the woods after dark. As I stare at the sky, I ponder how these seemingly random dots of light cold keep her from getting lost, but it doesn't make sense, so I give up and just lose myself in the stars. Somehow, their light is almost mesmerizing.

Suddenly, I realize that it's late. The stars are out and it's dark, of course it's late! Kicking myself for being so stupid, I stand and make my way back through the streets of the Seam, stopping at the pump outside my house before going in. I fill a bucket with cool water and splash my face with it, relishing the refreshing feel of the liquid against my hot skin. Then I undo my two braids and run my fingers through my blond hair. I them re-braid my hair in a single brain, like the one that Katniss usually wears. It makes me feel slightly closer to her, somehow. Everything that I can do to hold on to my sister helps me, in some small way. It helps me hold on to myself, to reality.

Once I'm cleaned up and refreshed, I slip into my house. My mother is stretched out on the couch, her eyes closed. I'm relieved that I didn't make her worry with my absence; the last thing that she needs is more stress. I walk into the tiny kitchen adjacent to the living room and open the cupboard, hoping to find something that I can make a late dinner with. I see the strawberries that Katniss brought home this morning, and beside them is the meat from several dead squirrels and rabbits. Somehow they have lost the appeal that they held earlier in the day, but I take them out and start to prepare a meal anyway. Maybe the smell of cooking meat will make me hungry.

As I wash the strawberries, I try to come to terms with the fact that there is a very real chance that Katniss won't be coming back, that I might never see her again. Somehow, the hope that she might be able to come home is what makes everything so hard to bear. I hate to admit it, even to myself, but it would be easier if Katniss were just dead.

Once the stew is cooking, I leave the tiny kitchen and check on my mom. She's still lying on the couch, but her eyes are open and she looks okay.

"Something smells wonderful. Did you start dinner, Prim?" my mother asks. I nod.

"I started some stew and washed up the strawberries," I tell her.

"Thanks. How are you doing, Prim?" she inquires softly.

"I'm fine. Or, as close to fine as I can be right now."

"Good. I'll finish the dinner and call you when it's done." I'm so glad that my mother is making an effort to stay herself and not go to pieces like she did when my dad died. I don't know what I would do without her.

I sit down on the couch and smile as Buttercup immediately jumps into my lap. He settles down and starts making biscuits on my legs. I wince. As wonderful as cats can be, they're also highly obnoxious at times.

After a time, my mother's voice calls me to the adjacent room, and I hurry over. While I'm not hungry, the cooking meat undeniably smells fantastic. I sit down at the small table and force myself to take a bite of the stew that my mother lays in front of me. It's tasteless to me, and it sticks in my throat, but I eat anyway. There's no sense in starving myself. I know that we will be able to get food, although it will likely be less than usual. Gale will bring us game and some plants, although I should help him by gathering dandelions in the meadow. I can still be useful, even if I don't dare to leave the district. I can still help to keep my family alive, as one final act of kindness towards my sister. I can still do my very best to keep everyone alive and to keep her happy, in the off chance that she will come home to me and my mother. I can still do it. With this strength, I force down the rest of the stew and strawberries before standing.

"I'm getting ready for bed," I announce, my voice catching slightly.

"Sleep well. And thanks again for starting the stew. Why don't you go spend a bit of time with Lady before going to sleep? I know that she always cheers you up," my mom suggests.

I nod and walk out of the back door to my house to check on Lady, despite the fact that i was with her less than an hour ago. I refill her bucket of water, make sure that the wood pile still provides shelter, and scratch her head for a couple of minutes before walking back inside.

Once indoors, I scoop up Buttercup and take him with me to my bedroom. I hurry to change into the nightgown that I wore last night before lying down on my bed, huddling under the sheets and trying to get warm, but without Katniss's comforting warmth beside me, it's impossible. The bed is too big, and too cold for me to rest. I pull Buttercup close to me, ignoring his meows of protest, and snuggle close to his furry heat. He curls up next to me once I stop pulling on him, and begins a slow, deep, and contented purr. Somehow, it comforts me. It makes me feel safe and warm and hopeful. I wrap myself around his warm body and somehow manage to fall asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank for all of the feedback and support! Also, if you guys could check out a poll on my profile about this fic, that would be awesome. Sorry that this is short! :)**

Katniss is being torn apart by muttations. The gruesome, huge things have long fangs, and they give eerie screeches and cries as they feast on her tormented body. I don't know what's happening to her, don't even know if she's alive. I try to move, but I can't. I try to call out for help, but my voice is gone. Frantically, I force a scream out of my throat.

"Katniss! Katniss!" I shriek, my voice carrying clearly over the growling of the mutts. The desperation and terror that I feel is obvious in my voice . I can't speak again. I writhe, sweating, feel sick with worry and terror. I feel a furry hand drifting over my face, and I know that it is a muttation, come to kill me, too. But then I open my eyes, not having realized that they were closed, and I see Buttercup's orange tail trailing across my face, back and forth, back and forth. I wipe the sweat out of my eyes and sit up. Something doesn't seem right. The bed feels too big, and suddenly all of the memories from the previous day come crashing down on me, like a giant wave of pain. I don't think I can bear them, but somehow I do. I stand up, shivering, but I'm not cold. I'm terrified.

I shake the thought off and go about my normal morning routine, milking Lady, getting breakfast, brushing my teeth at our sink at the back of my house. Then I try to remember what I usually do with my day before school. What did I do before Katniss was reaped? I can't remember, I don't know. Instead of anything normal, I pack my bag for school and then stare of into space for half an hour before my mother tells me that it's time to start packing for school. Because I already got ready, I have a head start and I meander slowly towards the large brick building, taking at least five minutes longer to arrive than I usually do.

I try to focus during my classes, but I can't. I know what they are about, anyway. It's all about coal, and how wonderful the Capital is, and more about coal, and then how wonderful President Snow is. I just can't take it right now, not when they have taken my sister and are probably going to kill her. So I tune them out and try to think of other things instead.

The rest of the school day passes uneventfully, and then my mother and I head to the viewing in the town square. Huge screens are set up where the stage was yesterday, but there are no chairs. I doubt that District Twelve has enough chairs to seat everyone. Instead, we will all stand, craning our necks and jostling for space, during the opening ceremonies.

Well, most people will, I remind myself. My mother and I, along with the other tribute's family, will stand in a specially reserved area for the families of the tributes that has a wonderful view of the screen. A peacekeeper leads us to this area, and we exchange terse nods with the other family, the Mellarks. We all know that we are hoping for the other family's child/sibling to die. It can't be helped. So instead of talking or trying to comfort each other, as we usually would, we stand stiffly apart, our faces as expressionless as we can make them. I see that my mother has tears running silently down her face, and try to swallow past the knot in my own throat. The terror and anticipation is excruciating. After about half an hour, once everyone is assembled, the screens are turned on and the show begins. I'm searching for Katniss in the crowd, but the tributes go in order, starting with District One, so I can't catch any glimpses of my sister in her chariot yet. I'm hoping that she has a decent costume, I desperately want her to get sponsors. The waiting is so hard it hurts. Finally, after just after District Eleven's chariot has pulled out, I catch a glimpse of fire, and for an absurd moment I think that the building that Katniss is in has caught fire, but then the camera focuses in on two flaming figures. Katniss is in a black bodysuit, with a red and orange cape and a matching headpiece. As the chariot rolls forward, streams of flame fly out behind her and her fellow tribute... Peeta, I think.

For a moment, I'm baffled. It looks like they are on fire, but that isn't possible! The Capital wouldn't let them die before reaching the arena. So what's happening? Then I hear the murmuring of the crowd. I catch the concerned whispers of the citizens of twelve, but then the tone starts to change. Someone shouts out, "The fire is burning coal!" There's a moment of silence while the crowd tries to process it, and then it makes sense. Katniss and Peeta don't look like they are in any pain. In fact, they are smiling. And now I understand. Their stylists have lit them on fire to represent burning coal. The fire is the costume. They are beautiful and powerful. The cheers of the Capital audience are deafening, and I can feel hope blossoming within me. Katniss can get sponsors! So far, she is loved! Dimly, I realize that it isn't only the Capital who is cheering. The entire population of District Twelve is screaming and yelling. It has been so long since our tributes have gotten good costumes, and the cheers are overwhelming. For the first time since the reaping, I feel like Katniss really has a good chance. Maybe she can really come home. My vision is blurring with tears, but for the first time in ages, they are tears of joy. I squeeze my mother's hand, and I feel her hand tighten around my fingers. She looks down at me and smiles, the hope obvious in her eyes. I glance over at Peeta's family, and see that they look pleased, too. Well, everyone except for Mrs. Mellark. She seems to have a perpetual scowl glued to her face.

I look back to the screen, and see that the cameras are still fixated on Katniss and Peeta. Katniss is smiling, blowing kisses to the audience. Peeta smiles and waves. And then I see something that makes me freeze. Katniss is holding Peeta's hand. They are linked together in a small form of rebellion against the Capital and the Games, and it terrifies me, because I know that President Snow will notice, and he will punish them. But the Capital audience loves it. Katniss and Peeta raise their hands high above their heads, openly defying the Capital. Despite the fear that I feel for Katniss, I'm also delighted at this act of rebellion. I love that my sister is brave enough, and stupid enough, to defy the Capital. I'm consumed with love for Katniss and, I realize with a start, for Peeta. My limited interactions with him and his father have revealed that the Mellarks are kind people, and I don't want Peeta to die. And maybe they will be punished for this act in the arena, but holding hands will also possibly get them more sponsors. Maybe it will do more good than bad. So I try to brush my fear away and cheer with the rest of the crowd. Katniss has a chance! is all that I can think, over and over again. She really does. She can come home to me. I know that her chances are still heart wrenchingly slim compared to the career tributes, but still. She can do it. I am confident that if she tries hard enough and gets lucky, she can win. I try not to squeal with delight. Whoever her stylist is, I will thank him or her if I ever get the chance. They may have saved my sister's life.

President Snow gives a short speech, and then the viewing is over. My mother and I hurry back to our home in the Seam, my heart feeling lighter than it has in a long time.

**A/N: Buttercup is so fun to write. :) Also, the views on this story are messed up, so if all of my readers could leave a quick review, that would be absolutely amazing (you don't have to have an account to review). Thank you so much!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Yay, finally a long chapter! :) I had a lot of fun writing this chapter because... Well, you'll have to read to find out. But it's a much cheerier one, so it's fun. :) Also, like I said yesterday, if you guys could check out the poll on my profile, that'd be awesome. I'm trying to decide whether or not to change the title of this story. Thanks! :)**

When I wake up, the television is droning on about something. My head snaps up as I register the word 'Katniss'. I leap out of bed and hurry into the adjacent living room. My mother is slumped in front of the television, but her eyes are closed and her breathing is even. She must have been up late watching the replay of the opening ceremonies. But now the Hunger Games announcers are talking about Katniss and Peeta and the training session. I shake my mom's shoulder gently, and she raises her head.

"Mom, they're talking about Katniss in training." We both turn to the television and listen as the announcer says that they both seem to be average in everything, and that they're sticking with each other and never leaving the other's side. I don't know why that is...

"It's like when they held hands at the Opening Ceremonies," my mom says suddenly.

"What?" I ask, not seeing the connection.

"They're sticking together. Trying to make it look like they're a team, maybe they have even have agreed on an alliance in the arena," she explains.

"Oh," I say vaguely, understanding dawning. I guess it could work. Making it look like they're a team, presenting themselves as friends... No one has ever done that, and it will set them apart from the other tributes. And Katniss could definitely use an ally in the arena.

* * *

After my morning chores, I decide to visit Rory and try to forget my troubles for a bit. It would be wonderful to have a normal day. I wind my way through the Seam, expertly navigating through the labyrinth of houses. When I arrive at the Hawthorn's house, I knock on the door. Immediately, I hear a slight scuffling, and then Posy appears at the door, holding onto one of her feet and hopping on the other one.

"Prim! I stubbed my toe!" she says proudly. I can't help laughing at her excitement.

"Are you okay?" I ask, trying to disguise my laughter.

"Yep!" she says happily. I love how genuinely sweet and happy she is. I hope that she can keep her upbeat, optimistic nature, even when the Capital has taken people she loves from her, or done something else awful to her. I know that it will happen, because no one makes it far in Panem without becoming scarred. I wonder if I was like her, before I understood the Games. Before my dad had been killed in the mines. Before my sister had been sent into the Games.

I shake the dark thoughts off. I came here in the hopes of lightening my mood, and I plan to do just that. "Do you want to ask your mom if you can come out to the meadow with me? I was thinking that you and I could pick some flowers and maybe some dandelion leaves. Then when we got back our moms could make salad," I suggest. I had come to see Rory, because he's closer to my age, and a good friend of mine, but Posy is so sweet. I have a feeling she can really help me to feel better.

Posy's grin becomes a bit wider, somehow, and she runs off to ask her mother for permission. I hear her telling her mom, and then her mother tells her that she can go, if she promises that she'll listen to everything that I say and not whine at all. I smile.

Posy comes running back. "She said I can go!" she squeals.

"Oh good!" I say. She starts to race out the door, and I giggle. "Why don't you put some shoes on first?" I suggest. She races back into the house, and comes running back thirty seconds later with a small pair of lace-up sneakers.

"Can you help me?" she asks sweetly.

I sit down next to her on the ground, and watch her slip the shoe onto her foot. Then I take her hands in mine and show her how to tie a sturdy double bow. I have her redo them several times, until I'm sure that she knows how. I congratulate her, and then she ties the other shoe by herself.

As I lead Posy to the meadow, she chatters on about how excited she is to be going somewhere with me, and how happy she is that she got a new dress for the reaping a couple of days ago, and how amazing it is that I taught her to tie her shoes. She really is a bubbly little girl, and spending time with her makes me very happy. I'm grateful for her company. I smile, not saying anything because it's impossible to get a word in during her non-stop chatter.

"Thank you so much for taking me! Are we going to pick flowers and make crowns and bracelets and rings? Oh, please Prim, can we?" she begs.

"Absolutely! That's why I brought you with me, so that you can help! And once we're like princesses, we can pick some dandelion leaves. Wouldn't it be nice to have a salad for dinner?" I ask her.

"Yes!" she squeals happily. When the meadow is within sight, I let go of her hand and she goes bounding off into the tall grass. I jog after her, careful to never let her get out of my site. The grass is almost as tall as Posy is in some places, and it would make it difficult to find her again.

"Wait up, Posy!" I call to the four year old, laughing. Does her energy never run out? She's been talking nonstop since I saw her, and now she's running around like a lunatic, and I don't get the impression that she is going to stop any time soon. Oh, well. She must have a lot of pent up energy from staying in her house so much. I smile again, amazed that she can make me so much happier so easily. I didn't think it was possible.

I finally catch up with Posy, and then pull her into my lap, tickling her. She giggles happily, and then I start tickling her nose with a small dandelion that is just starting to turn white. Her face contorts for a second, and then she lets out an explosive sneeze. I giggle and dump her out of my lap.

"Want to start making crowns?" I suggest. She runs off again, picking all of the flowers within reach. I stand up and follow after her, picking the ones that she misses. When we have a large bouquet, we sit down and I show her how to make a hole in the stem of the dandelion and then thread another dandelion through it, doing it several times until she has a long string, and then I show her how to fasten the two ends together and make it into a crown.

"I dub thee Princess Posy, Queen of the Meadow of Dandelions," I say in my best noble voice, placing the crown on her head as I speak. She giggles happily, and then runs off again, obviously out of patience for sitting still. I start making myself a crown, looking up every five seconds or so to ensure that I can still see her. When she is about to go out of my sight, I call out.

"Posy! Come back! I need to you put a crown on my head so I can be a princess too!" she runs back, giggling madly. I hand her the now complete crown, and she looks at it skeptically. "It isn't round," she says, accusingly. I laugh at her tone.

"It's fine. See, I messed it up a little bit there, but it still works. Now dub me princess!" She does, placing the crown on my head.

"You're princess, king of dandelions," she says proudly. "I did it! Now you're a king!" I laugh, and then she seizes my hand and runs off, squealing about how she wants to show me something. I follow her dutifully, and she brings me to a small patch of flowers. They are small and yellow, but they aren't dandelions.

"What are they?" she demands. I smile.

"They're primroses. These are the flowers that I was named after." I pick one and decide to bring it home and put it in a vase in my bedroom. It will add a bit of liveliness to the dull room.

"Really?" She asks.

"Yep! Do you think that we can find any posies?" I ask. She nods excitedly, and we cover the entire meadow, looking for the flower that she was named after, but it doesn't turn up. She pouts unhappily.

"It's okay! I don't know if they grow this time of year. I can ask Katniss when she gets home." I try to think of a way to change the subject, not wanting to think of my sister, now far away in the Games. I don't want to worry about her. But I don't have time to think about Katniss for long. Posy is dragging my off towards another patch of dandelions before long.

I show Posy the large dandelion leaves, and explain that they make a wonderful salad. I show her how to suck the sweet milk from them, and how to stack them once they are picked so that she won't drop them. I love spending this time with her, it's like having a little sister. I've always wished for a little sister. Posy makes me feel so wonderful. She has always idolized me, and I have always tried to spend a little bit of extra time with her, whenever I go over to the Hawthorne's house to see Rory or Vick. I smile as Posy yanks on my arm again, dragging me over to another part of the meadow. She pulls me around for about an hour before she is finally tired out. We have probably been at the meadow for two hours or so.

Posy lays down, her head in my lap, and I make her another crown on dandelions, because she lost her first one. We have a sizable pile of dandelion leaves beside us, and soon Posy's breathing becomes slow and deep, and I know that she has fallen asleep. I smile to myself, and, leaving the pile of dandelions in the Meadow, pick her up and carry her back towards her house. I know that her mother with be delighted to have her asleep when she comes home, because it's usually a nightmare for someone trying to get her to sleep. I'm pleased that I have helped the Hawthornes, as a small beginning to repaying Gale for all of the meat that he has, and will, bring us.

When I arrive at the house, I knock on the door with my foot, because my arms are full. Gale comes to the door, ands when he sees Posy asleep he smiles, a small, sad smile. I don't quite know what is between Katniss and him, as I've never quite been able to decide if they are best friends, or if their relationship is more romantic. I shrug the thought off. It doesn't matter, Gale will be hurting without Katniss either way.

"Thanks for getting her to sleep. You work magic on Posy," Gale says gratefully.

I grin. "Really, it was great. It was nice being able to... keep my mind off of things for a few hours. She worked magic on me," I tell him honestly, passing the sleeping Posy into his arms. I swallow nervously before speaking again. "I really am sorry about spazzing out at the reaping. I know that I said that it was your fault that Katniss was going into the arena, and I'm really sorry. I know that the way I reacted to her volunteering wasn't great, and I feel really bad about hitting you."

"It's fine, Prim. But thanks for your concern," he brushes off my apology like it's nothing. I like Gale. He can be a little abrupt and short tempered when you first meet him, but he really is good at heart. And even if he wasn't nice to me, Katniss likes him. And that's good enough for me. I smile at him.

"Psoy and I picked some dandelion leaves. Do you want me to bring you some of them? Think of it as payback for bringing my mother and me meat," I add, when I see the doubt cross his face.

"Really, Prim, it's not a big deal. You keep them," he tells me. I'm about to accept his answer, knowing that he won't change his mind, but then I remember telling Posy that she could have salad for dinner earlier in the day.

"I promised Posy that she would be able to have some. Surely you can at least take a few?" I ask, knowing that he won't deny Posy a treat.

"Oh, all right. But only enough for one meal!" he says in an almost threatening, yet good natured, tone. I nod, and hurry off to the meadow to grab the dandelions that Posy and I harvested.

* * *

Once I have dropped off the dandelions at the Hawthorne's house and have given the ones that I kept to my mother, I go out of the house, and spend some time with Lady, not milking her, just siting next to her and absentmindedly stroking her cheek with a finger. She bites at my finger, and I yank it away. I know that she is a nice animal, but I also learned from experience that goats will eat anything, even if it is attached to their owner. Once, I had a nasty bite on my side that my mother almost had to stitch. Ever since then, I have been careful around the over affectionate goat.

After spending a bit of time with Lady, I go inside to see if I can find Buttercup. Sometimes he disappears from the house for hours on end, but I can frequently find him curled up in a ball in front of the only window in my house, soaking up the sunshine. Today is not an exception. I sit down beside him and stroke his fur, relishing the feel of the heated fuzz against my hand.

After I finish spending time with Buttercup, I watch an update on Katniss's training, and then eat a wonderful dinner of dandelion leaves and a squirrel that my mother prepared. Then I go to bed, feeling refreshed and happier than I have in a long time. Considering the circumstances, I have had a fantastic day.

**A/N: I adore writing Posy. :) I hope that she seemed in character and like she really was four years old. Please review and let me know! :)  
Also, I'd be awesome if you could check out a song that I kind of consider to be Prim's theme song. It's The Cave, by Mumford and Sons. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Yeah, it's been a while. I'm sorry! I've been busy finishing school and then... Enjoying summer break and not doing much of anything! Yay!  
Anyway, I'm not sure if I like this chapter or not. I've been putting off editing it because my first draft was awful and I've decided that I'm finished editing, whether it's good or not. :/ I hope you at least kind of enjoy it! :P  
Also, a side note, I DON'T SHIP PRORY (Prim/Rory)! Sorry if any of you do, I just personally can't stand it. xD**

The next morning, I wake up early and lie in bed, pondering what I should do to keep my mind off of things today. Eventually, I decide that I will do chores for at least the beginning of the day. The house is dusty and in need of a sweeping, and I can give Lady a bath and brush Buttercup... Maybe I could also pick some flowers to brighten up the house with. My mom would like that. I can also watch the training update and try to get a feel for how Katniss is doing. By then, several hours should have passed.

I debate adding 'look at cakes in town' to my list of things to do, but somehow that seems silly and childish to me now. It's strange, because a week ago I would have loved to admire the graceful flowers and flowing lines of frosting. Now, however, it just seems like a waste of time.

I shake the thoughts off and step out of bed, shivering as my feet land on the floor. Although it is only late July, at night the house gets chilled and, starting in early September, there will be frost on the floor.

After changing into my outfit, which is made up of a pair of brown pants that used to belong to Katniss and a green shirt, also a hand-me-down from my sister, I put my hair up into the single braid that I have worn it in the past couple of days. I slip into the old pair of Katniss's hunting boots that I wore the morning of the reaping, and, pulling on my too-large jacket, I step out of the house. I feed Lady and make sure that her water bucket is filled before milking her quickly. When I'm finished, I dip my fingers into the pail of warm milk and lick them clean, savoring the warm goat's milk.

After I have finished my outside chores and have reassembled Lady's shelter into a better formation, I slip back into the house and pour a small amount of the milk into a saucer before setting it down in front of Buttercup. We can rarely afford to give him goat's milk, but occasionally I give in to his pleading eyes.

While my cat greedily laps at the milk, I look critically at his coat and decide that he really needs a cleaning. His fur is matted in places, and dirt is crusted around his ears. He really could do with a bath, although I know from experience that he will attempt to kill anyone who attempts to bathe him. Instead, I wet my hands and pet him until all of his fur is soaked. Then I pull out the hairbrush that I use on Lady and him, as well as myself, brush out all of the mats in his yellow fur, and smooth the fur until it gleams. Although Buttercup isn't usually overwhelmingly handsome, today he somehow looks almost dignified. I resolve to brush him more often.

Then I go through the house, dusting the shelves and taking extra care when I polish my father's shaving mirror. He had hated the layer of coal dust that always coated it, and when he was still alive I would polish it for him every day before he shaved. After he was killed in the mines, I couldn't bring myself to stop. So, five years later, I still clean his mirror. I can't remember the last day that went by without it's being polished. It must have been years ago, maybe even before he was dead. I sigh inwardly, but I can't afford to get sad now. I want to have a good day, just like yesterday, but it's hard to force myself to be cheerful when I'm feeling so gloomy.

Once the house is cleaned, I try to think of another thing to occupy me. I never thought that I would miss having school, but today I do. My mother isn't even awake yet, and I'm already at a complete loss as to what I should fill the rest of my day with. I sigh, leave a note on the table telling my mother where I am, and head out to the meadow in the hopes that its bright colors and lively nature will cheer me up a bit. When I arrive, I go to the spot where the primroses were, but someone has picked the entire clump of them since yesterday. I sigh for the third time in the past few minutes and try to decide what I should do instead. I decide to walk back home, and on my way back I come across Posy and a bored looking Rory. I smile, seeing that Posy is holding an enormous bouquet of primroses. She must have just picked them.

"Hey Prim!" Rory calls out. "Posy was on her way to your house right now," he says, good-naturedly shoving Posy forwards. She stumbles for a moment before regaining her footing and trotting towards me.

"I picked these for you!" she says happily, holding out the bouquet for me to admire. I take it gently from her and sniff the beautiful primroses.

"Thank you, Posy! They're beautiful. It really means a lot to me that you did this," I tell her honestly. And it's true. She has lifted my spirits a lot, and helped me to feel better.

"Yay! She likes them!" Posy tells Rory happily.

"Oh course I like them! They're gorgeous," I tell her, giving her a big hug. She hugs me back, and I grin. She squeezes hard for a four year old. Rory stands off to one side awkwardly.

"Thanks for helping her pick them. The flowers really cheered me up," I tell Rory awkwardly. He's a good friend, but since he just helped to deliver flowers to me, it's kind of strange.

"It was nothing. I needed a little fresh air anyway. But those flowers were from her, _not from me_," he laughs.

I can't keep a snort from escaping me at the thought of Rory delivering me flowers. Rory and I are nothing more than friends. We never have been, never will be. "Obviously," I say, in reply to his statement. I turn back to Posy.

"Thanks again for the primroses. They're absolutely stunning. But I should get back to my house now. I want to see how Katniss's training is going. Do you guys want to come with me?" I ask.

"Can we?" Posy squeals happily. I love her utter joy at the simplest things, like the offer of coming to my house.

"Sure, I guess. But I need to go home and do some chores," he tells Posy. Then he turns to me. "Is it okay if I leave her with you?"

"Yeah, that's fine. You're sure you don't want to come with her, though? I haven't seen much of you lately."

"Are you worried that Posy will be handful?" he asks, and I shake my head,

"No, she's good. Usually."

"Wow, I'm impressed. She's a handful at home. Anyway, I do have some chores to do at home, so I should be heading back. I'm sorry, I wish I could come," he tells me.

"Bye," I say as he turns towards his house. I take Posy's hand in mine. "Come on. Let's go see how Katniss is doing," I tell her.

She skips off, clutching my hand and dragging me behind her. I hurry after her, and together we make our way through the Seam to my house, and settle down in front of the television. My mother was awake long before we got home, and it was fine with her, as it always is, for Posy to come in. I play with/babysit the little girl a lot, and my mother knows that I can control the little ball of energy that is Posy. We sit together on the old couch, watching attentively for any updates on Katniss. As usual, they are focusing more on the careers, but occasionally there is a clip of Katniss or Peeta training. They don't seem to be showing their skills off, probably so that they won't be targets.

After about ten minutes, I notice that the girl from District Eleven is following Katniss and Peeta around. She joins them at different stations, and after a while Katniss starts to converse with her. And the more that I get to know the girl, named Rue, the less I want her to be killed. I have no idea how I'm going to be able to watch this year's Games.

**A/N: What'd you think? Please leave a review (I update faster when I get them!) and feel free to scream at me through review and/or PM about how I didn't update sooner. :D  
Also, random thing. I'm already dreading writing (spoiler alert for the end of Mockingjay!) Prim's death. It's going to be awful. .**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Hunger Games or the movie etc.  
Guys, I am absolutely blown away by the sudden flood of reviews and follows and favorites. Thank you so much. You literally had me dancing around my room squealing.  
Sorry that this chapter is short, but then next one should be longer. It's the interviews next time! :)**

The next day, I sleep late because I was awake for a long time last night worrying about Katniss's score. Today may determine the difference between her life and her death. If she gets a good score, she will get more sponsors. If she gets a bad one, she will lose nearly all of her sponsors. If she gets a good one, she will be a target in the arena, if she gets a bad one, she will be overlooked and she won't be a target. I can't distract myself from my terror all day. I pace the house until my mom finally suggests that I go for a walk. I do, but it doesn't help. I go and sit in the meadow, trying to clear my head, but I can't.

By dinner, I'm feeling sick with worry. Katniss has to get a good score. Sponsors are more valuable than being overlooked by the other tributes in the arena. She has to do well. Surely she can impress then with her skill, and get a... what? Five? Or a six, if she's lucky. She has to come up with something else. Surely she can think of something that will get her a better score. Maybe she can climb something? Or show off her survival skills?

I can't eat a thing, even though the squirrel that my mother sets in front of me smells wonderful. I'm far too nervous. So I just walk over to the television and sit down in front of it, waiting until the program comes up where the scores will be announced. Of course, District Twelve comes last. It always does. I sit through the other scores, not paying attention to any of them. I can watch them in re-runs, but right now, I'm focused on Katniss's score. Finally, District Twelve comes up. I dimly realize that Peeta has gotten an eight, and then Katniss's face is on the screen. It feels like time slows down as I wait for the announcement. And then the number eleven is flashing on the screen. I let out a small sound that is part sigh and part squeak. She did it! I have no diea how, but she impressed the Gamemakers!

"She did it! She did it! Oh, what do you think she did to get such a high score?" I demand. My mother just shakes her head, almost unable to speak.

"I don't know," she manages breathlessly. "But I don't really care, either. As long as she did well, it's all that matters." I nod, speechless.

She made herself a target for the careers, but she also got herself a load of sponsors, I'm sure of it. They will be invaluable. I grin broadly, and suddenly I realize just how hungry I am. I've got to stop refusing to eat. I'm sure that it is bad for me, and Katniss wouldn't want me to be so worried.

I walk over to the table and eat my now cold squirrel, still in awe of Katniss's success. I try to work out when she will be going into the arena. Tomorrow she will be prepping for the interviews, and the next day she will have her interview, and the next day she will be in the Games. Three days left. Three days for her to collect sponsors. Two days for her to think about what she will say in her interview. Possibly three days left for her to li- but no, I can't think like that. I've been far too gloomy lately. I have got to stay strong and happy, and I need to get on with my life. If Katniss isn't going to come home, I need to come to terms with it and move on, and try to make myself a better person in the future. If Katniss is coming home, then that's that, and nothing that I say or do will help or hurt her. I can't do anything to affect her, so I may as well stop worrying. The only person worry affects is me, and it is not a positive affect.

I'm wolfing down my food, barely stopping to breath. Once I have finished my meal, I step outside and check on Lady before going for another walk. It helps to calm me. The sun set about half an hour ago, and the moon hasn't risen yet. The sky is a lovely dark shade of blue, and the trees and houses cast long shadows. The world is a lovely, quiet place right now, but the Seam is especially so. I adore the dark, haunting beauty of the world at this hour. It is probably around nine in the evening, and the wind chills my bare arms, because I neglected to put on a coat. I shiver as I make my way to the meadow.

When I have reached my destination, I sit down in the tall grass, fingering the dew covered flowers. My hands are starting to get numb, but I continue to sit on my wet behind, unwilling to move from this peaceful place.

I want to lie down and admire the sky and the stars, but I know that if I do I will fall asleep, and it wouldn't be smart to sleep outside in the Seam. Not because of wild animals, but because several of the people who live in the poorer parts of district Twelve are not above murder and theft. The thought makes me consider leaving, but it's too peaceful for that. I sniff the cool, clear air. Usually, the air in the Seam is terribly polluted with coal dust, smoke from burning green wood, and the awful scents of rotting meat, human waste, and other unpleasant things. But today it doesn't carry any of those terrible smells. Maybe it is because I am so close to the woods, but it smells wonderfully clear and sweet and amazing. I inhale deeply, savoring the wonderful scent of outdoors. I adore it when the air is clear. I lie back, without realizing it, and stare up at the clear sky. I can see the stars, clustered together in something that is called a constellation. At least, I think that that is what the teachers called them. But I don't care one way or another. The clusters of stars are pretty no matter what they're called.

After admiring the sky and stars for about half an hour, I stand up to go back to my house before my mom becomes worried by my absence. There's still a spring in my step from Katniss's recent success during her private session.

**A/N: Please review! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I'm so sorry that it took me so long to update! I'm going to update again tomorrow to make up for it, though.  
I hope you guys like this chapter. It's not the best, in my opinion. I don't like writing romance and it was required in this chapter, so... Anyway, I hope that you enjoy it! :)**

The next morning when I wake up, I just kill time. All day for the next two days, I don't do much of anything. I go to the meadow with Posy, I spend time with Rory and Vick, I watch updates on the tributes, I go for walks, I clean, I play with my pets.

Finally, the night of the interviews arrives. I sit down in front of the television, snuggling close to my mother, with Buttercup in my arms. I see the man who hosts the interviews, Caesar Flickerman, opening the show, cracking jokes for the Capitol audience. I smile little. While Caesar does live in the Capitol, and he does help to host the Games, he seems nice. He always tries to help the tributes during the interviews, and that makes me like him despite the fact that he lives in the Capitol. I see the first tribute, Glimmer, walk out onto the stage.

Glimmer is ditzy and rather stupid, or at least she appears that way. It's entirely possible that she is just playing that angle for the cameras so that she will be overlooked, and then she will come out fighting in the arena. Either way, her interview whizzes by, with her playing up the "sexy" angle the entire time. She disgusts me, although she is sure to get lots of sponsors from the Capital, who loves provocative tributes. The tributes from the lower districts, mostly careers, all fly by. None of them are particularly remarkable. All of them seem evil. The girl from two, Clove, is very sarcastic and snarky. I remember from the training that she can throw knives from twenty meters away and hit the target dead center. Ever single time. I'm worried about her, because it seems like she genuinely doesn't care for the lives of her competitors.  
The girl from district five is sly and elusive, rather like a fox.

I don't pay much attention to the other interviews until the girl from eleven stands up. Rue. She is my age, and she claims that she is fast and she can climb trees. And that she is hard to catch. I think that if she lived in District Twelve we would be good friends. I feel so bad that I am rooting for her to die, but it is what I want. No, I don't want her to die. I want Katniss to live. There is a significant difference between the two.

Then the boy from eleven is up. He's tall and strong, but not particularly interesting during his interview. He mostly just answer Caesar with grunts, which aren't engaging. He's impressive, though. Then, finally, Katniss's name is called. I heave a sigh of relief.

She stands, and her dress, which is made of red flame like fabric, gives her the appearance of being on fire, like she herself is a flame. She makes her way gracefully to the interviewee's chair and sits down. Her poise is perfect. I am astonished by her grace. This is not the girl who went the Capitol. She has been transformed by the people there into one of them. Well, not entirely one of them. Not a freak, but with poise and someone who wear impeccable clothing and shines with beauty. Not someone who would spend her days hunting. But I'm not worried. I know that she will have fought them every step of the way, and that as soon as she is given the chance, she will return to being her usual, plain self.

Caesar starts questioning Katniss right away. "So, Katniss, the Capitol must be quite a change from District Twelve. What's impressed you most since you've arrived here?" he inquires.

Katniss's eyebrows knit together for a moment and she looks to be on the edge of panicking. But then here face clears and she speaks. "The lamb stew," she says decisively. I can't help giggling a little at her answer, because it is so unlike my sister.

"The one with the dried plumbs?" Caesar clarifies. Katniss nods and Caesar lowers his voice to a confidential tone. "Oh, I eat it by the bucketful." Then he looks horrified and turns to the audience, desperately demanding that they tell him if it's making him fat.

The Capitol audience laughs and then Caesar turns back to my sister and changes the subject. "Now Katniss. When you came out in the opening ceremonies, my heart actually stopped," he states. "What did you think of that costume?"

"You mean after I got over my fear of being burned alive?" The entire audience guffaws, and I join in.

"Yes. Start then," Caesar says.

Katniss gushes over how wonderful her costume was for a bit, and then she says that she can't believe that she is wearing her current dress. "I mean, look at it!" she almost squeals.

And then she does something that I don't anticipate. She stands up and twirls around, letting the dress seemingly catch fire around her. She stops after one rotation, but Caesar demands that she continue spinning and she obeys, whirling around and around until I worry that she will make herself too dizzy and trip. When she sits back down, she appears to be a bit unsteady and she is also giggling like Posy. I'm slightly appalled, but also more than a little entertained. Katniss is _giggling_. It's astonishing.

Caesar asks her a few more questions, but I don't hear them. I'm just watching Katniss, delighting in her apparent ease in front of the Capitol audiences.

Then, suddenly, it's over. Just like that, she is wished luck and sent back to her seat and Peeta is called up. He and Caesar act like they have been working together for years, bouncing jokes of off one another, laughing together. Most of Peeta's interview is uninteresting, but at the end of it, Caesar Flickerman asks him if he has a girlfriend at home. Peeta shakes his head violently, but it's clear that he is lying. After a bit more prodding from Caesar, he opens up, saying that he has had a crush on this one girl forever, but he doesn't think she knew he existed until the reaping. Caesar tells him that he should win and then she can't refuse him.

"I don't think it's going to work out," Peeta tells him. "Winning won't help in my case."

Caesar demands to know why. Peeta blushes and, barely audible, says, "Because... because... she came here with me."

It takes a moment for it to register, but when it does, I gasp. Peeta has a crush on Katniss? That's not possible. I love my sister, but no one likes her like that! And Peeta hadn't even met Katniss until a few days ago!

Unless... I can only remember one other time that Katniss may have interacted with him. It was a few months after my father had died, and we were starving to death. Katniss went out to look for food, to see if she could trade for something, anything. She was gone for hours, but finally, she came back with two slightly burnt loaves of bread. They were wonderful, warm, and filled with raisons. We ate an entire loaf in one sitting. After, when I asked her where she had gotten them, she said that a kid at the bakery traded them to her. She said that they were burnt because she didn't have enough to trade for something better. I guess that Peeta could have been the kid that she talked about. He is the baker's son, so it would make sense. I never really thought about it. But why would that incident cause him to have a crush on Katniss?

All of this flies through my head in less than a second. On the television, Katniss's face is in a close-up. There is a slight redness to her cheeks, and she stares down at her hands, her mouth open in protest. She looks embarrassed, like she has a crush on him, too. I try to figure out what this could mean. Are they really together? I doubt it, but I guess it's possible. And now I sound like one of the crazy girls at school who fuss over hair and clothes and boys. The ones who won't let a day go by without teasing Rory and me about being friends, and will always make sly remarks when we talk to each other. They're complete idiots. But even so, I want to know what is going on between my sister and Peeta.

I look over at my mom, and see that she has a hand over her mouth, apparently covering a smirk. She tries to keep a straight face, but she finally a small laugh escapes her.

"What?" I demand. My mom isn't the type to approve of someone announcing love for her daughter on live television to the entire country.

"I somehow doubt that Katniss is with him," she laughs. "Can you imagine your sister falling for someone over the course of a few days, and then being pleased when he announces sit to the world?" she asks. I'm completely blown away by her reaction.

"Well... No, I guess not. But he never said that she liked him. Maybe it's a just a crazy thing designed to get sponsors?" I ask doubtfully.

"Well, then Peeta must be one heck of an actor. Did you see his face? He was deadly  
serious," she tells me, still laughing a little.

Just then, the door sounds like it is about to be knocked down by an angry fist. I hurry to answer it before it's damaged and find Gale at the front porch, looking ready to kill someone.

"Is she really his girlfriend?!" he demands, eyes blazing.

"I-I don't know. I've never heard her talk about him before..." I answer doubtfully, taken aback and more than a little intimidated by his anger.

"She better not be with him," he spits before stalking away. I stand in the doorway, stunned.

"What's up with him?" I ask my mom, baffled.

"I'm guessing that he likes Katniss, too, and doesn't approve of Peeta's announcement. At least, that is the impression that I got," my mom tells me. I sigh.

"This doesn't feel right. Everyone involved is smarter than that, or at least Katniss and Gale are! Seriously, I can't imagine Gale falling in love with Katniss. They're just friends! And Peeta couldn't have fallen in love with Katniss in the few days since they left!" I'm babbling and I know it, but I feel like if I say it enough I can reverse the events of the last few minutes. Katniss should just focus on coming home to me and my mom. She can't afford to get distracted by romance.

My mom just laughs at me. "It'll be fine Prim. Tomorrow morning, I'm sure that Panem will have forgotten about the whole thing." She doesn't mention that they will forget because the Games start tomorrow. I shudder and try to push the thought aside, but once I've realized I can't forget it.

In around fifteen hours, Katniss could be dead. I try to swallow past the lump in my throat, but my eyes are filling with tears and my vision is getting blurred. I can barely comprehend that my sister could cease to exist tomorrow. It's impossible to grasp, so I give up.

"I'm going to bed," I squeak, hurrying from the room before my mother can question it. I flop down on my bed, despairing as I once again realize how empty it is without Katniss taking up half of it. I bury my face in my rock-hard pillow and try to muffle my tears.

Just as I am drifting towards sleep, a half formed thought jerks me back to consciousness. If she likes Peeta then he'll win.

I bolt upright and am about to tell my mother what I realized when I pause. I'm lucky to have my mom staying herself as it is. If I tell her, she might crack completely and leave me alone to watch my sister fight to her death. But it would be cruel to leave her out of the loop. I let out a long, wavering breath, gather my courage, and force myself out of bed. I give up trying to wipe my face dry after one futile attempt and hurry into the living room before I lose my nerve.

"Mom. If Katniss really does like Peeta, then she'll try to get him crowned as victor instead of her." There's no hope in my voice, and my mother picks up on it. She doesn't say anything, just gets up and wraps her arms around me. I bury my face in her shoulder and we hold each other as we mourn Katniss's almost certain loss.

**A/N: Please, please, please review! The more reviews I get, the more frequently I update. :)  
Also, a review from pointed out that I had been spelling 'Capitol" as "Capital". I tried to fix all of the mistakes, but I apologize for any that I missed. :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: (Sorry for the re-upload, this isn't a new chapter) I'm sorry that I haven't been updating! I was busy reading Divergent (a dystopic future novel that is a lot like The Hunger Games) and whenever I tried tow rite it would fall through (my keyboard wasn't working for a bit). But I'm back now! I'm not going to promise a date for the next update, but I hope that it will be soon. :)**

I hear my mom's voice, pulling me from sleep. "Prim! Prim, you need to get up," she says in her soft voice. Groggily, I open my eyes, and then, before I know why, my stomach contracts in anxiety. Then it hits me.

"When do the Games start?" My voice is much lower than usual, and filled with dread.

"In about an hour," my mom's voice sounds the same as mine did. Resigned, almost. "I got you up now so that you can milk Lady and get ready to watch the Games."

"I'll never be ready." My voice is devoid of any hope, filled with pain and suffering and horror. How can we live in a world where such things as this happen? I'm twelve, still very young in the scheme of things, and yet my father has been blown up, I have spent the last five years of my life on the edge of death from starvation, my sister has risked her life on a daily basis by hunting, and now the Capital has taken her away and are going to force her to kill other innocent kids. Even if she does come home, she won't be the same person. I have seen Haymitch, how he is always blotting out the world with drink. I've seen the broken, scarred victors on television. I've seen the crazed look in their eyes. And I know, if Katniss comes home, she won't ever be the same.

I can barely comprehend how awful this is. Who will be next? Will the Capital kill me next, and leave my mother all alone in the world? Or worse, could it be that they will take my mother from me. I force the thoughts out of my head and sit up as my mom walks off to make breakfast, leaving me in privacy to change. I hurry to get ready, to prepare myself for what I will see. I'll be watching the bloodbath of the most important Hunger Games in history in less than an hour. The thought makes me feel sick, but I force myself to keep it together and to go out and milk Lady before sitting down in front of the battered old television. My mom and I could watch in the square, but we want privacy, so instead we watch on the television in our home. It has terrible quality, but at least we aren't peering through throngs of people to get a glimpse of the screen.

The Capital is raving about how excited everyone is, and Cladius Templsmith gives a long speech about how exciting this year's Games are going to be. I shudder, terrified of what I am about to see. What if Katniss doesn't make it through the bloodbath? What then? But no, I can't give up on my sister. I have to stay strong for her. So I sit up straight and try to tune out the announcer. I try to put on a mask, and pretend that I am immune to the fear that I feel on the inside. I know that I can't keep up the act for long, that the second Katniss rises into the arena I will lose it, but I can't help myself. Never, never have I felt this terrible fear, never I have I felt this utter need to be somewhere else. If I could trade places with Katniss I would. In a heartbeat. I would sacrifice myself for her without a second thought, but I was never given the chance to. And now I never will be.

Suddenly, the screen is filled with a blinding gold, and then the camera slowly zooms out, revealing the cornucopia, but nothing else. Then all of a sudden, the view has changed to an areal view of the arena. I give a small gasp that combines a shriek and a sigh of relief. This is where my sister may be killed. But it's perfect for her. The arena, it's like it was designed for Katniss. Trees are everywhere, the same kinds as the trees that surround District Twelve. The cornucopia is in a clearing. On one side of it, there is a giant lake, surely filled with monsters of some kind. Behind the cornucopia is a field of grain, maybe wheat. It doesn't really matter, because I know that Katniss will run for the woods. Something catches my eyes, a small glint of silver, and I look towards the cornucopia. A silver bow is right in the mouth of the golden horn. I choke for a second, knowing that Katniss will run for it. No! She can't participate in the bloodbath! She'll be killed! My mother is beside me, oblivious to the imminent danger. I'm about to tell her, when something stops me. Maybe she won't see it. Maybe Katniss won't notice, and she'll just run for the woods. I keep my mouth shut.

The tributes slowly rise into the arena once we have been given a long time to memorize the arena. I desperately look around for Katniss and I see her, with the woods to her back and left. She is squinting in the bright sunlight, but her eyes rest on the cornucopia. I'm willing her to look away, to look around her, and she does, taking in her surroundings with a quick sweep of her head before looking back to the cornucopia. Her gaze settles on the bow, and I realize that my mother sees where she is looking, too. She lets out a small shriek.

"She can't grab the bow! She'll be killed!" My mother starts sobbing hysterically, and I want so badly to put my arms around her and comfort her, but I can't tear my gaze away from the wretched arena, and from Katniss. Instead, I don't look her way, knowing that there is absolutely nothing that I can do. I am powerless.

In a small corner of the screen, the seconds count down. They seem impossibly slow. Katniss's gaze is still on the bow, but I can see in her eyes that she hasn't made up her mind on her strategy. I'm shaking my head desperately, trying to make her not go for it, but I know that she can't see me, and that I'm being stupid. But then, to my surprise, I see my actions being mirrored on the screen by Peeta. Katniss sees him, too, and her brows furrow in indecision. Before she can decide what to do, the seconds on the screen run out, and the gong deafens me.

And then all is chaos, killing, and I can't find Katniss in the blur of motion. The camera does a quick cut around to all of the tributes, and I see her, for about half a second, frozen in place. Then we are back to an ariel view and I can make out my sister, running for an orange pack. She has a sheet of plastic and some bread in her arms. A boy is also running for the pack, and they reach it at the same moment, colliding into each other. I yelp as they both go down and wrestle for it. Then a girl is running up behind the boy, throwing a knife into his back, and he dies instantly. Katniss's head whips around, trying to find the boy's murderer. I scream as the girl who killed the boy throws another knife at Katniss. It's going to hit it's mark, and I try to look away, but I'm paralyzed with fright. My muscles are tensed and I'm trying so hard to make Katniss dodge, but it's too late, and I'm powerless against the Capital and the Games. The knife is going to hit her. I scream as time slows down. Just as the knife is about to make contact, as my sister is about to be killed, I see a flurry of motion. Katniss swings the orange pack around and blocks the knife. I give a yelp of joy. She's alive - at least temporarily. The girl who threw the knife swears angrily, but doesn't bother risking another shot as Katniss scrambles to her feet and sprints off towards the trees, running impossibly fast. I'm hyperventilating as the girl with the knives takes a few steps towards Katniss, but then she changes her mind and allows my sister to escape. Katniss has survived the bloodbath. She has done it. The camera changes from the areal view again, and I can't see Katniss. But I know that she is safe, because she doesn't turn up on the screen again. If she was being attacked, we would see it happening.

Even when Katniss doesn't show up on the screen, I'm stilled glued to the television set, desperate for even a glimpse of her. About every half hour, there is a thirty second or so clip of Katniss hiking through the woods, sometimes running, sometimes pulling out her knife at a strange sound, but never stopping. I'm relieved that she is traveling away from the cornucopia, and that she has supplies, but I'm so scared, knowing that at any minute she can be attacked and killed. She didn't get the bow, which was good because it meant she wasn't in the bloodbath for long, but it does mean that she is in far more danger now. Every muscle in my body is tense, my stomach churns, my eyes are getting fuzzy from staring at the screen for too long when the bloodbath finally ends. There is a quick cut-around to each of the remaining tributes, but then the camera is back on the careers. I'm shocked to see that Peeta is still in the clearing, and he seems to be talking to the careers. Doesn't he know that he'll be killed?! I realize that he is talking with the girl who tried to kill Katniss, and I have a brief moment of uncontrollable anger, but I can't stay mad at him. I'm too scared to waste any energy on other people. But then I see the girl, Clove, leading him back to the other tributes.

"He can't be joining them!" I scream to no one in particular. "They want to kill Katniss! That idiot is going to help them! He made Katniss trust him and now he is betraying her!" The tears are streaming down my face. I need to tell Katniss what's happening, but I'm powerless. There is absolutely nothing that I can do. The helplessness is killing me. I feel like someone - specifically President Snow - has my heart in their hand and is slowly squeezing the life, the hope, out of the me. Katniss can't be killed.

I'm sobbing, unable to bear the terror and the helplessness. I want to do something, anything, to help my sister, but I can't. I'm useless. I'm a poor excuse for a sister.

My mother is still crying. She hasn't stopped since the Games started. I know that I should at least try to comfort her, but I'm going crazy, too. How have the other families lived through this? Anything, even Katniss's death, would be welcome if it would stop this heart-wrenching pain and terror. I'm begging Katniss to have not told Peeta her plans. Maybe she wouldn't have. Maybe they trained separately. I know that she wouldn't have just opened up to him about her strategy, but I don't know that she would have trained apart from him.

When I manage to look back to the television, I see that Peeta is telling the careers that he will help them find Katniss. No! I tear myself away from the screen and drag myself out of the house, around behind it, wrench open the gate, and collapse in Lady's little hideaway, sobbing. She can't be killed. Peeta can't have lied about his love for her and then betrayed her the very next day. I thought that Peeta was above lying, but apparently not. I hate him. I wish that he would just be killed right now in the Games so that Katniss can come home. I hope that when I go back in, they will be playing his death. He deserves it, doesn't he? He deserves to be at the wrong end of Cato's sword, or Clove's knife, or Glimmer's bow. But even as the thoughts run through my mind, I don't mean them. Not really. I couldn't wish a death upon someone like that, not even someone as awful as Peeta. Because I know, deep down, that all Peeta is trying to do is survive, too. I can't hold that against him. I'm not that cruel.

I hear my mother calling me in, her voice broken and terrified. "Primrose, come see what's happening."

I drag myself up, terrified to go inside and see what's going on, but also terrified to stay outside and not know. I force my feet to move me around the side of my house, drag myself through the door, and collapse on the couch, feeling devoid of any hope. I see Peeta leading the careers through the trees, appearing utterly confident as to what he is doing. It soon becomes clear that he is leading them straight towards Katniss, although how he knows which way she has gone is a mystery.

I suck in my breath sharply, feeling a stab of pain in my chest. When I speak, my voice is icy, quit, and filled with hate. "What?" I'm too angry for words, to angry to form a coherent thought. "No," I state. Then I turn away from the television, unable to watch any longer, and stalk into the only other room in the house, the bedroom. I throw myself onto my bed and just lie there, stewing over what is happening. I'm too angry for tears, I just lie on my bed, not moving, not even thinking.

* * *

After about an hour has passed, and I have calmed down enough to be comfortable leaving my room, I walk back into the other room and sit down next to my mother, who is still watching the Games. Her face is devoid of any emotion, and I know the struggle that is going on just past her vacant eyes. She is trying so hard to keep it together for me, and I'm glad. I don't know what I would do without her right now, but more importantly, I don't know if she will ever come back to this world if she travels into the dark world of grief that she lived in for so long. And then Katniss would come home and my mother would be dead, or at best a shell of who she used to be. And I would be insane, like one of the victors of the Hunger Games, Annie. I would have gone crazy knowing that my sister was in the arena, playing a Game of kill or be killed, living with the knowledge that I brought that upon her.

I shake my head to rid myself of the dark thoughts and focus in on the screen. I see that it is night in the arena, although in District Twelve it's only around six in the evening. The sky is dark, but I can just make out a shot of Katniss sitting high in a tree, oblivious to the fact that the careers are hunting her right now.

**A/N: A couple of things...  
You need to read a couple of fanfictions. :) First, Districts of Hunger. It's by Phoenix Refrain (Check that), and it tells the story of the first hunger games. It's truly amazing. Also, you should read boywithbreadlover's stories. Most of them are The Hunger Games through Peeta's point of view, and they're amazing. boywithbreadlover's writing is absolutely beautiful.  
Next, a shout-out to Neil12 (a guest) for reviewing. I'm glad that you're enjoying the story. :)  
And finally, please do review. I update so much more rapidly if I get lots of them, and reviews are the only way that I know people are reading/enjoying this. :) Thanks!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I'm so sorry that I haven't been updating! I wrote this chapter, but then I kept procrastinating on editing it because I hate writing dialogue and there's a fair amount of it in this chapter. I would sit down, pull up my document, look at it for ten seconds, and then close it again. Yeah... Anyway, no promises on when the next update will be, but I have been thinking of writing a different story (just a few chapters) until I'm more inspired to work on this. :)d  
I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

Even though nothing is happening in the arena I stay glued to the screen all night, never leaving, never looking away, never giving in to the exhaustion that overwhelms me by around three in the morning. I'm too scared that if I fall asleep something will happen to Katniss, and I'm even more scared of the nightmares that closing my eyes will inevitably bring. So I stay awake, my eyes wide open, several candles burning by my side. My mother sits next to me, her eyes trained on the screen, but I don't think that she is processing the events displayed there. I think she's slipping away into her own grief filled world, and I don't know what to do to save her or bring her back. So I just sit next to her, hugging her tightly, and feeling entirely useless.

Around five in the morning, there is some real activity in the Games. A girl - I'm not sure of her District - has settled down several hundred yards away from Katniss's tree and is snapping branches of of trees, presumably to use for a fire. Not smart.

A little box in a corner of the screen displays the low temperature in the arena, so the girl's actions are understandable, but surely she knows that anyone in the arena would be able to see the smoke from her fire. Then it would be a simple matter to track her down.

I stare intently at the girl, dread filling me. The careers will easily locate and kill the girl now, and Katniss is only four hundred or so feet away from her. It seems impossible that the careers could get so close to my sister and without noticing her presence.

A shot of Katniss reveals that she is awake and shifting in her sleeping bag, although I can't tell is she is aware of the girl near her. I strain my eyes but am still unable to figure out if my sister has noticed her company. She stays awake though, occasionally shifting her position slightly, for about two more hours. I'm just thinking that maybe they haven't been discovered, maybe Katniss can just go back to sleep, when the image on the screen sudeenly changes to reveal the career pack sprinting towards the girl's fire. A blond boy, I think Cato, stabs the girl who lit the fire. There is a piercing shriek, and just like that, she's gone. Thirty seconds ago I thought she was going to live and now she's... just gone.

I close my eyes for a moment, and when I open them a shot of Katniss fills the screen. I'm straining my eyes, desperately trying to see if Katniss is awake, and if the career pack has spotted her. But I don't have to wonder for long. They all start jogging straight towards my sister. I let out a small scream as they head for her tree. They can't have seen her! If we can barely see her, even with the aid of the Capitol's fancy night vision gadgets, how is it possible for them to have seen her? But maybe they haven't! They stop under the tree that Katniss is in and start arguing about something. I don't know what, but after a little bit Peeta walks back the way that they came.

When he reaches the girl, the screen suddenly cuts back to Katniss and we don't have to watch him kill the girl. After twenty seconds or so, the cannon fires. Why didn't they show her death? They love reveling in every contestant's gory ends, why not hers? And then it occurs to me. Peeta must not have just killed her. Maybe he apologized first, or maybe he closed her eyes after she died, or both. Either way, the Capitol would never show something like that to Panem. That must be what happened.

And then it's over, and we see Peeta walking back towards the careers, breathing heavily. As Peeta nears the pack, his gaze tilts back and, just for a moment, just when he is staring straight at Katniss, a small smile crosses his face. Then it's gone, and he hurries to join his fellow tributes and lead them away from the tree just as dawn breaks and the sun peaks over the horizon, shrouding the arena in various shades of orange and yellow.

I knit my brows together, too relieved by the fact that Peeta didn't point out Katniss to his companions to contemplate why he didn't. I relax, leaning back against the exposed springs of the couch and closing my eyes. I allow myself to drift off, secure in the knowledge that the careers are moving away from Katniss and that the Capital audience should be happy for a short while because of the recent death.

...

It feels like I have only been asleep for a couple of minutes when I feel my mother shaking my shoulder, rousing me. "What?" I ask groggily. Then my eyes fly open. "Is Katniss okay? What happened? She is okay isn't she? I mean, she's alive?!"

"Relax, Primrose. She's fine. But it's time for school," my mother whispers. I guess she isn't slipping away into her own world after all.

"Oh..." I trail off. The last thing that I want to do is go to school, where I won't be able to watch Katniss live, and where everyone will look at me in the way that makes it obvious that they pity me, but at the same time are also almost scared of me. I've seen the way that people look at the family member of tributes before, like they're unclean, like they're too stupid to know how they are viewed. Like they're scum. It's sickening.

I wipe my hands across my eyes, trying to keep my eyelids from drooping, and stand up, my legs wobbly. I grab the couch for support until I can stand on my own. I'm so tired, I'm almost asleep on my feet, but I force myself to go through my morning chores. My movement is stiff and when I look in the mirror my eyes are bloodshot and there are dark circles under my eyes. I look like a zombie, and I resolve to get more sleep tonight. Hopefully Katniss won't be being chased by the careers this evening.

As I walk to school, I ponder Peeta's actions throughout the Games. He told the entire world that he loved Katniss, he shook his head to keep her from going into the bloodbath, and now he has joined the careers and is leading them away from Katniss. If they found out that he was knowingly leading them in the wrong direction, they would kill him on the spot. So why did he do it? There can only be one possible answer. He must really love Katniss. His declaration during his interview must have not been a lie, and now his plans to die for her in the arena. I'm shocked. Not surprised that Peeta is doing it, but astounded that he loves Katniss. I had always assumed that Katniss would just be single for her entire life, or if she wanted to marry, she'd marry Gale. It had never even occurred to me that other people might be interested in her. She's a wonderful person, but she's just too sullen for most people. It's hard for me to grasp the fact that now she has two boys interested in her.

I'm startled to realize that I'm have already standing outside of the red brick building covered in coal dust which is my school. After a long pause I walk in, trying to keep my steps as light and quiet as possible so that I go unnoticed. It's doesn't work. The second that I enter the doors, I feel like I am being assaulted by voices. People whisper as I walk past them, and I hear Katniss's name repeated several times. I straighten my shoulders and try to ignore the barrage of voices that are growing bolder. Someone comes up to me and asks me how it feels. I look at her, considering glowering at them, but then decide against it.

"It's hard," I tell the girl honestly. "I'm so worried about her every second, but I'm okay. I would prefer to be left alone, through," I add. I think that if I'm honest with everyone, it might help. Well, if I'm somewhat honest. I would obviously never tell them what I think of the Capitol, or how terrified I am every waking moment.

The girl backs off a little, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. It's just... You know. We feel bad for you. Please tell me if there's anything I can do to make you feel better."

I smile a little, small and sad. I size the girl up, taking in her strange features that state that her parents were likely from a different district. She has shoulder length blond hair, which is normal for district twelve. But her eyes are a striking green, her skin is incredibly pale, and her face is angular, but not starved. She about average height, and she looks fairly fit, although it's clear that she is well fed. I get the impression that she lives in town, not in the Seam. Her clothes reinforce my feeling that she comes from a merchant family. She wears a plain white shirt and a blue skirt that brushes her knees. A blue headband and shoes tie the look together, and I feel certain that no one from the Seam could afford clothes like hers.

"I'll be fine, but thanks. What's your name?" I ask her. She seems like a nice person, and I like how she backed off as soon as I asked her to.

"I'm Winter. And I know your name. I guess the whole District does by now," she smiles to show that her remark wasn't meant offensively.

"Yeah, I suppose so. And I'm sorry I was kind of blunt and unfriendly when you asked about Katniss. It's just really hard. I'm so scared, and it's easier to talk about other things."

"Okay, well if you want to talk about other things or not talk at all, that's fine. Also, I wasn't offended by your reaction. I understand," Winter tells me, sounding sincere.

"Sure you do," I snap, offended. "It must be so easy to imagine what it feels like to lose your sister and have it be your fault. Of course you understand my problems." I realize that my voice is rising and hastily try to quit down. "Sorry. It's just... hard."

"Prim, I did go through it," Winter says softly. "My brother was reaped when I was last year. I could have volunteered for him, but I told myself that he had a better chance than I did. And well, you know what happened. We didn't have a victor last year.."

I gasp. "I'm so sorry! I had no idea."

"It's fine. I wasn't telling you for sympathy, but because I want you to know that I understand exactly what you're going through. If you'd like, we can meet up after school and talk. But like I said, it's fine if you don't want to talk to me. I didn't talk to anyone while my brother was in the Games. I still don't as much as I used to. Watching my brother kill other innocent kids, it changed me. I don't know if I can ever be as caring as I was before. Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it to keep going, to go on living in a world where things like this happen. But I always think of how wonderful he was. He wasn't a killer, even though he had to kill in the Games. I remember him as he really was, and it helps me to keep going. Prim, you have to remember how Katniss used to be, no matter what happens in that arena. You can't let the Capital break you, because it takes so long to get it together again."

I just gape at Winter. It sounds like she went through exactly what I'm going through. "Wow, I guess you do understand," I laugh in an attempt at lightening the mood. "And yes, I would like to meet up after school."

Just as Winter opens her mouth to respond, a teacher steps out into the hall and bellows at us to get to our classrooms. School starts like that every morning, because we don't have a bell like some of the richer districts. I give Winter a small smile before walking off into my classroom. She goes into a different room, and I notice that she's one grade ahead of me. Thirteen.

Time seems to drag as I desperately wait for lunch, needing to see the update on the Games. Katniss could be dead right now, and I wouldn't have any idea. But finally, it's lunch time, and as I sit on the floor eating my dried rabbit and berries, I desperately watch for updates. The screen shows that Katniss is fine, although the announces say that she is dehydrated. I'm terrified that she won't be able to find water, but there is nothing that I can do about it, and after only a couple seconds of her being on-screen, the cameras turn to other, more "interesting", events. I suppress a shudder as I hurry back to my desk without finishing my meal. Somehow, it lost it's appeal.

**A/N: Okay, so that story I mentioned. I've been toying with the idea of writing a collection of one-shots (maybe two or three) that are Prim's POV for memories like her dad's death, or Katniss singing The Hanging Tree. Please let me know in a review if you want me to, and if I get at least five requests for it I'll write it. :) Also, I'd appreciate requests for any other memories that you'd like me to write.**

**Oh, and I'd also appreciate it if, if there's anything about my writing that bothers you (too many typos, not enough dialogue, badly written dialogue, etc), you'd let me know. Thanks! :)**

**One last thing (sorry this is so long). I'm going to change my username to Saphira/Saphira12/Saphira42/Saphira(insert random numbers here), depending on what's available. :) It's going to mess with links to my author bio. Just a heads up. :)**

**Please review!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hello anyone who's still out there, I'm really sorry that it's taken me so long. I've been busy and lazy (mostly lazy, I could easily have made time to write if I tried...). I feel like this story has been getting progressively worse with every chapter, so I've just been uninspired to continue working on it. I really don't like the chapter either, but it's something, and I've just been really sick of editing it, so here you go. I hope it's okay. :)**

After school is finally over, I meet up with Winter in the hall where we first talked. I am still the subject of piteous looks, muttered conversations, and awful rumors, so I hurry to leave the school building, with Winter on my heels. We walk towards the meadow to talk. I know that my mother might worry a little bit, but she is used to my not showing up for a while after school, so it should be okay.

When we arrive, Winter asks me where I live.

"In the Seam. I'm assuming that you live in town?" I ask, trying not to make a big deal out of my poor status. I've learned that if you make it clear that you don't care about it, others most likely won't, either.

"Kind of.

My dad signed up for the peacekeepers a couple of years ago. He was hoping that he could make more money for my family, but you aren't allowed to be married when you're a peacekeeper. He had to get a divorce from my mom so that he could sign up. He was going to try to smuggle us some of the money that he made, but he was moved to district five, and we haven't heard from him since."

"I'm sorry!" I gasp, appalled.

"It's okay. I've learned to live with it. My mom is a coal miner, but she is a somewhat higher level one than most. She oversees a lot of mining and such. I don't see much of her, either. What do your parents do?" It's clear that she is trying to change the subject, so I don't make a big deal out of it.

My voice is wistful. "My dad was a coal miner, but he died in an explosion five years ago. My mom fell into depression, and she's never really recovered. So neither of my parents work. My sister finds all of our food in the meadow, and by trading things that she finds." I decide that it's better not to tell Winter that Katniss hunts illegally. Since her father is a peacekeeper, she might be forced to tell him and then Katniss might be arrested. But she did say that she hasn't had any contact with, and she also told me about his attempting to break the law for them...

"Actually, that isn't all true," I admit. "My sister hunted in the woods. She learned to from my father, and ever since he died she has been providing for me and my mother by hunting every day. She trades in the Hob for other things that we need."

"Wow. Do you want to go watch an update at my house? My mom won't be home, so she won't mind." Winter tells me.

I shake my head. "Thanks, but I'd rather go watch at my house. I can check in on Katniss and maybe grab something to eat and then we can meet up here again," I say.

Winter nods in understanding. "How about we meet here, same place, in an hour?"

I grin. "Okay. This is great, giving me something to hold on to, and to look forward to. I have a lot of friends, but I only really half-know any of them, and they all distanced themselves from me as soon as Katniss went to the Capital."

We both head off to our respective homes, hurrying to get everything that we want to done before the hours is up. I run back towards my house, trying to get an update on Katniss as soon as possible. When I arrive, panting, through the door, I find my mother with her face buried in her hands, sobbing.

I collapse on the couch beside her and put my arms around her, my eyes glued to the screen. This can't be good. Katniss must be dying, why else would my mother have gone to pieces like this? I'm desperately searching for any footage of Katniss, but I don't have long to wait. The camera is on Katniss almost full-time. She stumbles along the ground, looking exhausted. I hear Claudius Templesmith's voice talking about dehydration, and I know that Katniss needs water if she is to survive. I think back to previous Games, thinking of all the times that I have watching tributes dehydrate to death, and I know that this is why Katniss is the star of the Games right now. The Capital will be hungrily waiting for the end, waiting for my sister's life to come to an end far too soon.

I sit, paranoid, unable to move, too scared to cry, watching my sister die. I can barely comprehend the fact that she is going to die, but I know she is. As I watch, the camera slows pans out to reveal that Katniss is passing within five hundred yards of a small spring. For an agonizing moment that seems to drag on forever, I think that she won't notice.

But then she stops next to a bush, her face lit up with excitement. Surely she has smelled the water, or the berries that surround it, or something. She has to have. But she's kneeling down, not moving towards the water that she needs so desperately... Her hands reach out to pluck something from the bush in front of her.

"Katniss appears to have found her salvation!" Claudius Templesmith states that the berries in Katniss's hand are edible. I heave a huge sigh of relief and try not to cry as Katniss lifts them to her mouth.

Just as they reach her lips, she pauses, a desperately hungry expression on her face. She looks at them for a second and then breaks one open, revealing a bright red interior. Conflicting emotions cross her face, and it is clear that she is undecided as to whether she should eat them or not.

I'm willing her to take the plunge. She has to know that she'll die without them. Surely she'll be willing to take the risk. Possibly die of poison, or almost certainly die of dehydration. But she must not be thinking clearer because, after an unbearably long pause, she hurls them away into the brush. I give a small squeak and bury my face in my hands. I don't look up for a long time, unwilling to see what is going on.

After what must be fifteen minutes, I look up again. The Games seem to be back to their normal rotation of shots. I jump as I remember that I was supposed to meet up with Winter. How long has it been? Guiltily, I realize that I must be late. I don't want to leave, in case anything happens with Katniss and I miss it, but I think Winter might be able to comfort me, so I whisper to my mom that I'm going to the meadow and then slip out the door, my footsteps heavy and lifeless without any of their usual spring.

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed it, and ****_please_**** review. It really makes me so much more inspired to continue writing. :)**


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